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The Road to Emmaus

One of my favorite Easter stories is the one often entitled The Road to Emmaus. If you have never read this story or haven’t recently read it, you might want to.  It can be found in Luke 24:13-35.  I’ve read or heard it a number of times over the past few months.  It’s a most fascinating story – I’m glad that Luke felt God’s tug to include it in his gospel.

It’s the story about two of Jesus’ followers (not part of the Twelve) as they travel from Jerusalem to Emmaus on “that very day” – the day Jesus was resurrected.  As they walked the seven-mile trek, they had all kinds of time to talk through the events of the past three days, so they did. 

As they walked, Jesus showed up, appearing unbeknownst. Jesus had once said, “Where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them” (Matt. 18:20). That’s literally what he did, though the two disciples didn’t recognize him. As he came alongside them he asked a simple, yet profound question: “So, what were you guys talking about.”  They stood there looking sad.

One of them asked Jesus if he was the only person that hadn’t heard what took place in Jerusalem these last few days.  Jesus then asked a simpler and even more profound question: “What things?”  Love it.  Jesus, who experienced it all, asked, “What things?”

It was just like Jesus – not missing a teaching moment, always asking great questions.  (I suppose he could have been just messing with them – I certainly would have!)  I think as a teacher, Jesus asked questions for a couple reasons: (1) He wanted to discover what they understood, thought, believed, and perceived, and, more importantly, (2) He wanted them to discover what they understood, thought, believed, and perceived.

Mostly, I think he wanted people to pause, think, and ponder.

Think about some of the questions he asked – Do you want to get well?  What do you think about John the Baptist?  Which of the three was the neighbor to the victim? What do you think (he asked this often)? What do you want me to do for you?  Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’ and don’t do what I say?  Who do you say that I am?  What are you looking for? He seemed to always be asking questions that caused the hearer to pause and maybe ponder for a second or two. Or more.

I remember talking with a High School girl during a grief group session I was facilitating several years ago.  She was struggling with how God could have taken her loved one.  I asked her the question, “Take or allow?”  She was doodling on her folder, paused, looked at me, and said, “I’ve never had anyone ask me that before.  I’ll have to think about it.”  Ponder.  This young gal, with a pretty new faith, came back the next week and said that she was rethinking how she viewed God’s role in her loved one’s death.

Several years ago at a local coffee shop, a stranger, noticing me writing in my journal, asked me how keeping a journal has helped me grow in my faith.  (No one had ever asked me that before or, at least, not that point blank.)  I thought about it for a second and said, “It makes me ponder.”

It really does.  As I spend time alone with God in solitude, I find it’s in the moments that I ponder what I’m reading (and the subsequent questions that seem to arise) that things begin to connect for me.  I get to discover what I understand, think, believe, and perceive about things.  It’s almost like Jesus is sitting with me asking the questions that make me pause and think – pondering in solitude. 

I refer to it as times of pondertude.

It’s Saturday.  But Sunday’s Coming!

Every year I find myself pondering what it might have been like for the first-century Christ-followers as they woke up on the Saturday after Jesus’ crucifixion, wondering what had just happened.  Jesus had come into their lives with words and actions that gave them hope at a time when they needed hope.  God had not spoken for centuries.  The Romans had conquered them.  The religious leaders heaped burdens upon them that left them with a sour taste of who God was and what He was doing.

Jesus came with the good news that God’s kingdom was near.  Good news.  Hope.  He also spoke of the availability of the kingdom for anyone and everyone – even those whom the religious leaders indicated God was not interested in.  Very good news.  Much hope.  Enough hope to cause many to quit their day jobs to follow him. 

He rocked their worlds.  He spoke with authority, demonstrating that God was significantly different than they had ever thought or dreamed.  As they continued to follow him, it became evident to them that Jesus was a prophet, maybe even the Messiah.  As time passed many became convinced that He was the Messiah and were probably confused as to why the theologians didn’t see it.

Then the last few weeks everything seemed to unravel.  There was a sense that things weren’t going to end well.  Judas tried to force Jesus’ hand.  The rest of the followers were confused and grasped at straws trying to understand why all seemed to be disintegrating before their eyes.

And then it did disintegrate.

Within 24 hours it all came crashing down, culminating with Jesus’ death as a criminal.  Now it’s Saturday.  Friday was the worst and darkest day they had ever experienced.  Now what?  This morning I tried to imagine what they might have been thinking: “What happened?  We thought he was the Messiah.  He even led us to believe he was.  Was he a fraud?  If so, what did we miss?  He seemed like the real deal.  Did we just waste three years of our lives?  The naysayers are going to have a heyday with this!  And what of hope?  We needed hope three years ago and thought we had found it.  Now all hope seems to be lost.  So, now what, God?”

We have the privilege of looking back on that Saturday through the lens of the resurrection, knowing that hope was just around the corner.  But they didn’t have that vantage point.  But God did.  And God, knowing he was going to resurrect Jesus, allowed the followers a moment of despair.  What a powerful act of love!  Doesn’t sound like love to us, does it?  But love, in its truest form, is the lover doing exactly what the loved one needs, not what the loved one thinks he/she needs.  Think of the love of the father who let his son (the one we call ‘the prodigal’) leave, knowing it was ultimately the best thing for him.

We all have ‘Saturdays’ in our lives when hope seems to have been snuffed out.  God has a different vantage point than us.  God tells us, as he told the Israelites, “Be strong and courageous!  Do not be afraid and do not panic before them.  For the LORD your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither leave you nor forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6).   For the Israelites, ‘them’ was the Canaanites that inhabited the land they were to move into.  For us today, ‘them’ might well be the devil’s minions, those demons that would prefer we lose hope. 

History and the experience of all the Christ-followers that have gone before remind us that hope is around the corner.  As you ponder resurrection hope, contemplate something N.T. Wright once said: “They [demons] can still shriek, but since Calvary they no longer have authority.”

It might be Saturday, but Sunday’s coming! Have a Blessed Easter!

The title, It’s Saturday.  But Sunday’s a Coming!, is a takeoff on a classic old message by Tony Campolo that my wife and I heard him give at a Young Life conference in 1979.

A Sweet Aroma

Below is an article that my friend, Crystal Kirgiss, wrote for Young Life‘s weekly communique to staff and stakeholders worldwide. It is a perfect reflection as we prepare to celebrate Resurrection Sunday. With her permission, I want to share it with you…

Sometime during what we now call Holy Week, Jesus was eating with His disciples and other friends when a woman approached with an expensive jar filled with expensive perfume. Rather than giving the jar and perfume to Jesus as a gift, like the Magi had 30-some years earlier, the woman shockingly broke the jar open and poured the perfume on Jesus’ head and feet, releasing a sweet aroma.

Essential oils are big business right now. But dousing someone with it during a dinner party is not the norm. We might lightly dab to clear our sinuses or calm our mood. But we do not pour plentifully, no matter what the occasion. This woman, though, poured until there was nothing left to pour.

Jesus’ disciples were neither amused nor impressed.

“What a waste! What nonsense! You could have sold that for good money! You could have made a measurable impact!” Leave it to Jesus’ disciples to deliver a thorough scolding for someone’s act of absolute allegiance and utter worship.

Jesus, though, set the record straight. He called her act beautiful. He praised her — not for something impressive like converting an entire village, or investing and making a profit, or planning and pulling off a large event, or increasing her ministry output. Instead, He praised her for humbly and faithfully anointing Him for burial.

For months, Jesus had been telling His friends He would soon die. Just days earlier, as He’d entered Jerusalem, He’d told them that now was that time. Maybe He’d even talked about it during this very meal.

But this woman seems to be the only one who truly believed what He said, in which case her strange, extravagant act makes great sense — for how else could she possibly respond but to pour onto Jesus the most valuable thing she had, knowing He would soon pour out for all of humanity the most valuable thing He had.

Both Matthew and Mark note that Jesus said to everyone in the room: “I tell you the truth; wherever the good news is preached throughout the world, this woman’s deed will be remembered and discussed.”

But that’s not usually the case. It’s a weird story, after all. And it lacks a neat and tidy takeaway. If we’re always in search of neat and tidy takeaways, Scripture will often disappoint us. But if we’re willing to read it for what it is, and consider the larger story of the Bible, Scripture will always feed us.

At face value, this story is mostly about something a real woman did, in a real place, during a real moment in time, when it was exactly the right thing for her to do in response to Jesus. Are we as aware of things we’re called to do, in this place and at this moment, in response to Jesus? And if that thing is costly, would we be as willing as this woman was to actually do it, knowing others might misunderstand and call us foolish?

As we read the bigger message of God’s Word beyond this story, it becomes clear why this narrative should be remembered and discussed. This woman’s actions are a reminder that in response to Jesus’ death, resurrection, and Lordship, we’re called to break open and pour out the costliest thing we have — our very lives — as we die to ourselves daily, surrender to our Lord, and honor our King. Hopefully, our acts of sacrificial obedience and worship will release a sweet aroma into the world just like the woman’s perfume did thousands of years ago — but now it will be the sweet aroma of Christ Himself.

By Crystal Kirgiss, Director of Discipleship Content and Partnerships, Young Life

Torah, Torah, Torah

Whenever I hear or read about Hebrew Law or Torah, my mind immediately goes to the classic WW2 movie, Tora, Tora, Tora. I can’t help it – that’s how my mind works. 😬 Torah is a significant part of Jewish history and thus an integral part of the Christian tradition as well. I suspect that we (Christians) primarily don’t know what to do with Torah. How are we to view it, especially in light of Jesus saying…

Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law [Torah] or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. (Matthew 5:17, NIV)

So, what do we, as 21st-century Christians, do with Torah, the Law? I have oft stated that part of the value of writing a blog is to process and put to words my own theological wonderments and understanding. This is one of those times…

By definition, Torah is God’s law as revealed to Moses and captured in the first five books of the Hebrew Scriptures (Old Testament). As I write this, I realize that “law” is singular, which I suspect might be significant.

I recently spent time in Psalm 19. After talking about the splendor of God’s creation, the psalmist included a section that consists of a series of adjectives describing the character of Torah, each accompanied by a verbal phrase revealing how it impacts the life of the faithful:

7 The law [Torah] of the Lord is perfect,
    refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,
    making wise the simple.
8 The precepts of the Lord are right,
    giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the Lord are radiant,
    giving light to the eyes.
9 The fear of the Lord is pure,
    enduring forever.
The decrees of the Lord are firm,
    and all of them are righteous.

If Jesus has “fulfilled” or “completed” the law, does that mean the Hebrew Torah was some sort of defective system unable to accomplish what God intended? Gerald H. Wilson suggests otherwise…

Torah was God’s word for Israel. Jesus accepted Torah (and indeed the whole Old Testament) as God’s authoritative word for himself and his followers. Torah led those who related themselves rightly to it into a proper, restored relationship with Yahweh. This is not defective. It may not be the “fullness” of God’s revelation, but it rightly accomplishes what God intended it to do.1

I suspect, as the psalmist and Wilson suggest, there is a robust understanding of Torah that has been lost over time and is foreign to present-day readers. We tend to read scripture (both Hebrew and Christian) through the lens of Jesus’ death and resurrection, missing the original intent. Consider the community that sang Psalm 19 in the temple as part of their worship. Unlike today, they did not have a very complete concept of eternal life or resurrection. So what did Torah do for them?

There is a common theme that permeates and threads through the entirety of the Bible, the scripture we possess today. It’s central to the narrative of God’s new creation project as he invites humans to participate in his restoration (think salvation) activity. That theme in some manner, shape, or form…

I will be your God and you will be my people.

Is this new information for you? It was to me when I discovered it years ago and it has forever changed my lens of Biblical understanding. Theologically, it’s known as the Covenant Formula. Through Moses, God communicated to the Israelites in Egyptian captivity, needing rescue (again, think salvation)…

“I am the Lord [Yahweh], and I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians. I will free you from being slaves to them, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment. I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God.” Exodus 6:6-7, NIV

This theme, this Covenant Formula weaves throughout the entirety of the Hebrew scriptures, into and throughout the New Testament. What is somewhat fascinating is the bookend effect when we discover one of the last occurrences of the formula in the Book of Revelation…

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.” Revelation 21:3, NIV

I suspect this concept that Yahweh is our God and we are his people is the lens through which the psalmist wrote and the people worshipped. Their focus was the giver of the Law. The adjectives the psalmist used to describe Torah (God’s Word to his people) also describe their God, distinguishing Him from all the other gods in their proximity. Torah revealed their God’s character, thus words like perfect, trustworthy, and righteous.

To the ancients, Torah was more instructive than prescriptive. Torah is formed from the Hebrew word yrh which means to instruct or teach. Rather than “law,” the term is more properly understood as “instruction” or “guidelines.” The psalmist and the Israelite worshippers understood Torah’s primary function to be one of guidance in right living as the people of God.

Right living, not living right.

This is not just wordplay. There is a significant difference between right living and living right. (You may want to visit Anything worth doing is worth doing right.) Torah guides people toward right living under God’s kingship. It described how people relate to Yahweh “as their God” and to each other (thus the strong focus on mercy and justice throughout the Hebrew writings).

The opposite is living right, focusing on the laws and the guardrails of right living. When driving at night, I want to keep my eyes focused on the road ahead, not the guardrails. They serve a significant purpose, but if I focus on them, I might find myself intimately acquainted with them. That’s what happened when Jesus arrived on the scene. The religious leaders had mainly taken their eyes off the intent of the Law, of Torah, and focused on the laws, concentrating on getting it right. And they got it all wrong.

Thus Jesus’ admonition to the “getting it right” Pharisees: Go and learn what this means: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” (Matthew 9:13). The religious leaders constantly did battle with Jesus over the correct application of Torah. In what I assume to be exasperation, they asked him which of the laws (commandments) were most important. As the personified fulfillment of the Law, he reminded them of the full intent of Torah…

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments. (Matthew 22:37–40, NIV)

Those are my musings on Torah. Process it as you wish (or as the Holy Spirit leads). In the meantime, when I get 2 1/2 hours to spare, I might watch Tora, Tora, Tora.

1Wilson, Gerald H. The NIV Application Commentary: From Biblical Text…to Contemporary Life Psalms Volume 1. Zondervan Publishing House, 2002.

Lent 2023

We are midway through this year’s Lenten season. Lent may or may not be something you traditionally think about. Many do. Lent (literally springtime) was popularized in the fourth century and had a different and more practical purpose than we might think seventeen centuries later. As one of the oldest Christian observations, the original intent was a period set aside for reflection and self-examination, demonstrated by self-denial, in preparation for Easter. Like other Christian holy days and holidays, it has morphed over the years, but its purpose has always been the same.

How might it have morphed? If we were to poll people this week as to the purpose of Lent, we would likely hear something about what we should give up during the 6+ weeks leading up to Easter. For many, self-denial has become the main focus. We/you might likely have a similar view. If so, we find ourselves entering this springtime with a negative perspective.

I live in Minnesota. With 2 feet of snow on the ground and another 4-6″ of snow predicted yet this week, I am not hearing many people dread the coming of spring. Who would want to approach spring sullenly? Or Lent?

The editors of Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter suggest that “Lent should never be morose – an annual ordeal during which we begrudgingly forgo a handful of pleasures. Instead, we ought to approach Lent as an opportunity, not a requirement.” After all, the main purpose of fasting (forgoing of a pleasure) is to provide more opportunities to discover and enjoy God. There is an old liturgy that refers to the Lenten season as “this joyful season.”

You may have reached this halfway point of Lent 2023 without giving it much thought. It’s not too late to step into the season. It’s never too late! How might we approach Lent this year in a manner that brings joy? Here are a few suggestions…

  • Read one of the Gospels. This is always a good starting place. You can plan your reading so that you finish at Easter, providing you with the backstory leading up to Jesus’ death and resurrection. Or listen to the Gospels with Annie F. Downs.
  • Find an online Lenten devotional like the one from Baylor University or Biola University. It’s OK to start in the middle (why do we westerners struggle with that?).
  • Find a weekly Lenten service with the express purpose of discovering and enjoying God in new ways.
  • Since we are talking about the hope of springtime, N.T. Wright’s book Surprised by Hope would be a good book to start during Lent (though it will probably take you well-past Easter to finish).

Whatever you choose to do during the remainder of this season of Lent, God will meet you, further revealing himself to you (I speak from experience). Blessings!

Gospel Immersion

Podcaster Annie F. Downs has provided an opportunity for anyone and everyone to experience all four Gospels every month. For the year 2023, she has added a second podcast, Let’s Read the Gospels. I highly recommend checking it out!

Downs’ intention is to provide an opportunity for people to be immersed in the Gospels for twelve months, knowing the year-long experience will lead to transformation. One of her favorite sayings…

You don’t have to read or hear the Gospels every day to be changed, but every day you read or hear the Gospels will change you.

Check it out. I listen every morning to start my day. It only takes 15-20 minutes. It’s been a great experience thus far.

What Might it Take?

If you have never read the book of Nehemiah in the Old Testament, you should. If you have read it, you might want to read it again, because it is a most amazing story. The books of Ezra and Nehemiah are paired together, following the historical books of Kings and Chronicles.  In the Hebrew Bible, Ezra and Nehemiah are one book entitled Ezra-Nehemiah, but the Christian canon separates them into two different books.

In the fifth century B.C., the Israelites continued to emerge from their exile in the Persian Empire. They were invaded and conquered by the Babylonians in 586 B.C., with Jerusalem and its temple destroyed in the process. God’s chosen people found themselves scattered throughout the Babylonian Empire and eventually witnessed Babylonian’s own fall to Persia.

With the Persian overthrow of Babylon, the Israelites found themselves living under a regime that was more accepting of God’s people and willing to let them return home to rebuild their nation. God raised up a series of leaders to take charge of that homegoing. Two of these were Ezra, the priest, and Nehemiah who became the governor of Judah. 

The Book of Nehemiah is basically a memoir, written by Nehemiah himself and preserved and edited by later Jewish scribes. His story picks up around 445 B.C. when he was the cup-bearer and presumably trusted advisor to the Persian king, Artaxerxes I. Though the entire memoir of Nehemiah is a worthy read, I want to focus our attention on the beginning of the story…

In the month of Kislev (Autumn), Nehemiah learned that his countrymen were in trouble and that Jerusalem’s walls and gates were still in ruins. Nehemiah’s response? In his words:

As soon as I heard these words I sat down and wept and mourned for days, and I continued fasting and praying before the God of heaven. (Nehemiah 1:4, ESV)

His prayer, captured in verses 5-11, reads like any number of Psalms. Starting by appealing to God’s covenant loyalty (see Hesed and Emet), Nehemiah called on him to “let your ear be attentive and your eyes open, to hear the prayer of your servant that I now pray before you day and night for the people of Israel your servants” (verse 6). Continuing in a typical psalmist motif, he confesses the sins of the Israelites, employing the inclusive “we.” He closed his prayer with a specific request that, as the cup-bearer, God would grant him favor with the king.

In Chapter 2, the story picks up in the month of Nisan (March-Aprilish), 4-5 months after Nehemiah received and prayed about Jerusalem’s condition. God granted Nehemiah favor with the king, possibly surpassing his own hopes. (I think of the Apostle Paul’s prayer “to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine…” [Ephesians 3:20]). The story in a nutshell…

The king noticed Nehemiah’s melancholy countenance and asked what was troubling him. In fear, he shared with the king his lamentation over the fact that Jerusalem lay in rubble. The king asked, “What are you requesting?” Nehemiah’s response to this most favorable question:

So I prayed to the God of heaven.  And I said to the king, “If it pleases the king, and if your servant has found favor in your sight, that you send me to Judah, to the city of my fathers’ graves, that I may rebuild it. (Nehemiah 2:4-5, ESV)

Nehemiah then proceeded to lay out a time frame as well as a plan to rebuild the city, starting with the walls and gates. He audaciously asked Artaxerxes that the provincial governors ensure his safe travel. He also asked for kingdom resources, like timbers for beams to rebuild the gates. The king granted Nehemiah’s requests and topped it off with an army escort back to Jerusalem.

So I prayed…and I said

This is where I want to park for a bit. I have heard many a sermon suggest that Nehemiah prayed and God, in that moment, gave him the exact words to say along with the plans. There is certainly something to that, but I fear it’s too simplistic and doesn’t do justice to the God/human relationship we see throughout the biblical narrative.

Consider this: Nehemiah had 4+ months to ponder the situation back in Jerusalem. I can imagine him repeatedly asking the question, “What might it take?” as he pondered his God-inspired vision to repair the walls and reinvigorate the city. I think Dallas Willard’s description of prayer (“Talking with God about what we are doing together”) is apropos. Though rhetorical in nature, “What might it take?” could have been the ongoing prayer as Nehemiah talked with God about his vision.

I suspect Nehemiah’s response to the king’s question “What are you requesting?” was a natural outcome of months of pondering, talking with God, and asking “What might it take?”

I actually experience something similar 25 years ago. We had moved to a community with the task of reviving its 30-year-old Young Life ministry that was in disarray (rubble?) – to the point that major stakeholders questioned its continued viability. Six weeks into my tenure, I visited the monthly meeting of the community’s youth ministers. After introductions, I was asked to tell a bit of my story – my youth ministry background, what led to my taking the Young Life position, etc.

One of the youth ministers asked a question I did not anticipate: “How might we, as youth ministers, help Young Life get back on track in our community?” I suddenly realized how Nehemiah might have felt! So I prayed and I said, “Send your best kids to Young Life – those who need to be in mission; those who need a neutral place to invite their friends. Young Life can be that place for them.”

I had pondered for years (talking with God!) about how I might work alongside a ministry like Young Life, should I ever join a church staff as the youth minister. I didn’t know exactly what it might look like, but I did know that I would want to make sure my best kids were aware that such a great neutral option was available to them, so they could minister to friends.

And the result? The initial responses were looks of surprise, maybe even shock. But two of the ten youth ministers took me up on the offer. We saw weekly attendance immediately increase from a few to about 100, continuing for the duration of my tenure. I suspect the impact of the question has had a far-reaching impact – far more than the asker dreamed or imagined.

The Leper Story

Recently my wife, Barb, had the privilege of giving a talk to the middle schoolers at our Church. As she prepped for the talk, she read it to me. My immediate thought: “I need to include it in a blog post.” So, here it is…

When I got engaged to my husband, Curt, he was hanging out with high school-age kids from our church and kids who didn’t go to church. He loved them so much that he eventually went on to get a job in youth ministry. Most of my married life has been spent around a lot of teenagers!

I grew to love the kids too and eventually took some girls to camp. When we got back, we started a weekly Bible study in my home. Some of the girls had started a relationship with Jesus at camp and a couple others weren’t sure what they thought of him.

Colossians 1:15 says Jesus is the visible expression of the invisible God. So if we want to know what God is like we need to take a good look at Jesus. What made him mad, what made him sad, and even happy? How did he treat people? What kind of people did he spend his time with? How can anyone really know if they can trust God unless they spend time getting to know him first?

With my group of girls, we started by looking into the Gospels to get to know Jesus. There are four books in the New Testament called the Gospels. Two of the Gospels were written by men who spent a lot of time with Jesus; one was written by someone who lived during Jesus’ life and later became a follower; and one was written by a doctor who also became a follower, talking to all sorts of people who had spent time with Jesus, gathering information so he too could write an account of Jesus’ life. 

So I’d like us to take a look at one story about Jesus told in three of the Gospels. I think it might be an important story since it is in three of them.

Jesus and the Leper in “The Chosen”

This story is about a leper. You’ve maybe heard the term ‘leper’ before but unless we know what it was like to be a leper in Jesus’ day we can’t possibly understand what a big deal it was for Jesus to heal him.

Leprosy was considered to be a curse from God. So lepers would have believed that God was angry at them and punishing them for something they did.

Lepers were shunned by others, meaning they weren’t allowed to live with their family or friends.  They had to live outside their community with other lepers. They couldn’t go to school or work. Now you might think that doesn’t sound so bad until you understand that the reason they couldn’t work or go to school was because the disease caused them to have extremely ugly, and very painful sores on their skin. It affected their nervous system and eventually caused them to lose their fingers or limbs. It was a horrific disease.

Now the townspeople cared for lepers by bringing them food but they didn’t go near them and they never touched them. Someone who had leprosy would have to keep their distance from everyone else and if they did approach someone, they would have to ring a bell and call out “Unclean, unclean.”

Will you please close your eyes for a minute and imagine having painful sores all over your body? Now, imagine that you are going through that pain alone. You are living with others who are in pain as well, but you are not with your loved ones. And now lastly, think about what it would be like if you had to ring a bell to announce yourself and let others know you are unclean. I can’t think of many things that would make me feel more self-conscience.

In the story, the leper has heard that Jesus can heal people. He must have been feeling desperate because he took a chance on Jesus. Remember Jesus represented God and lepers believed God was punishing them for some sin. But he took a chance. Listen to the brief story as told in Matthew, Chapter 8…

1 When Jesus came down from the mountainside, large crowds followed him. 2 A man with leprosy came and knelt before him and said, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.”  3 Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” Immediately he was cleansed of his leprosy. 

Isn’t that a nice story? The leper is healed, and all is well.  Except if you were the leper, you have a much deeper wound than even the horrible disease of leprosy. No one would have come close to you let alone hugged you for as long as you had the disease.  

When the leper approached Jesus, he no doubt kept his distance, and we know he took a position of humility by kneeling. Some translations say he begged Jesus to heal him. Jesus could have healed him from exactly where he was standing but that isn’t what he did.

This is the part I love – Jesus touched the leper. He healed the man in the place he was the most wounded, his heart. After years of being shunned, keeping his distance from people, and being fed like a dog but not loved like one, he was healed of the physical and emotional pain he had experienced all those years.

He was fed like a dog but not loved like one.

Jesus not only healed him and treated him with dignity, but he also contradicted what society thought about lepers.  Jesus communicated that God was not angry at him.

Whom do you relate to most in this story?  The leper or someone who kept their distance.   How might this change the way you see Jesus?  Or yourself?

The Most Fascinating Person in the Universe

When I was serving as the Director of Youth Ministries at Central Lutheran Church in Elk River, MN, we developed some core values – we called them “non-negotiables.” We agreed that we would focus on Jesus, the most fascinating person in the universe. A couple concurrent values: (1) every kid has the right to know the most fascinating person in the universe and (2) it’s a sin to bore a kid with the most fascinating person in the universe.

Recently I was checking in on my pastor friend, Matt Woodley. He is the Cathedral Vicar of the Church of the Resurrection in Wheaton, IL. Like most churches, their website is designed with typical drop-down header menus, like “About Us,” “Connect,” “Next Steps,” “Sermons,” “Give,” etc. The Church of the Ressurection’s website has a curious menu option – Jesus. After clicking on “Jesus” and reading the content, written by Matt Woodley, I immediately wanted to share it in a blog post. So here it is – enjoy!

Christ Banner by longtime Resurrection artist Ray Wu

The British mystery writer and playwright Dorothy Sayers noted there’s one thing we cannot say about Jesus Christ—that he was a bore. “On the contrary,” Sayers once wrote, the people who opposed Jesus, “thought him too dynamic to be safe.”  

When I first started reading the historical accounts of Jesus, I was captivated by Jesus’ life and teaching. After spending most of his life as a refugee and then a blue-collar craftsman, he started announcing a dynamic new message. The Kingdom of God is here, he said, so turn your whole life around to get ready for it. He claimed his message was the best good news the world has ever seen. 

He made outlandish (unless they were true) claims about himself—like “I am the way, the truth, and the life” or “I have authority on earth to forgive sins.” He railed against the religious leaders of his day, calling them hypocrites and “white-washed tombs.” 

And yet he often displayed remarkable tenderness to normal or even “bad” people—like the owners of a small family fishing business, low-level government officials mired in corruption, a terrorized woman caught in the act of adultery, or a father and mother grieving the death of their twelve-year-old daughter. Through these simple, tender encounters, Jesus offered a new vision for dignifying and redeeming a broken but yearning humanity. 

Jesus is utterly un-boring, fresh, and fascinating.

Yes, Jesus is utterly un-boring, fresh, and fascinating. The award-winning essayist John Jeremiah Sullivan once joked about the “Jesus phase” that he and many of his friends passed through in high school. But after snubbing the faith of his childhood, Sullivan said he often has doubts about his doubts. He admits that he still can’t get over the Jesus of his “Jesus phase.” “My problem isn’t… that I feel a sucker for having bought it all,” Sullivan laments. “It’s that I [still] love Jesus Christ.”  Jesus Christ—his life and teaching and also his death and resurrection—are at the center of everything we believe and do at the Church of the Resurrection. To us he’s not only a fascinating historical figure; he’s also the world’s deepest hope and only savior. (Matt Woodley, Cathedral Vicar, Church of the Resurrection)

Addendum, February 11, 2023. William Willimon (retired Duke Divinity School and Methodist Bishop): “Why Jesus? Because he’s the most fascinating person in the world.” *

* Willimon, W. H. (2010). Why Jesus? Abingdon Press, ix (intro)

Kyrie Eleison

I am presently in the midst of a chronological read of the Bible. Many years ago, I came across a plan that allows a person to read through the Bible in a year, reading the stories fairly chronologically – reading concurrent Old Testament stories from Kings, the Chronicles, the Psalms, and/or the prophets. Or gospel stories from the writings of all four evangelists (Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John).

If you know me, you may not be surprised that I’m not a big fan of read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year programs. I have nothing against them per se – but they can be a setup for failure. I’ve watched far too many people start the year-long process in January and peter out by mid-February. (In the same vein, I’ve witnessed far too many people start January fitness plans with similar shelf lives.)

So why am I engaged in such a plan? For the chronology, not the associated time frame. I started this particular read-through in June 2020. Following the laid-out chronology, I’m slowly working my way through scripture using two (and sometimes three) translations. My go-to translations are The Voice and the NIV supplemented by listening on Audible. I might be going slow but I am, in fact, successfully reading through the Bible chronologically, which was my original intent. (If you’ve ever read The Story, you understand the value of chronological scripture reading.)

I am presently reading through the four Gospels, following Jesus’ final journey up to Jerusalem for the Passover and his ultimate execution. The typical route from Galilee required traveling through Jericho, about 20 miles East of Jerusalem. During this particular trip through Jerichico Jesus encountered Zacchaeus, inviting himself to dinner, and spending the afternoon with the tax collector (Luke 19). Inviting oneself to dinner was an honor in first-century Jewish culture. It was a transformative afternoon for Zacchaeus and I assume for the townspeople. And I’m sure for his disciples as well (though three years into their journey with Jesus, they were maybe starting to get used to his radical and revolutionary behavior).

As Jesus and his entourage headed out of town, they were confronted by two blind men sitting by the roadside (Matthew 20). When they heard that Jesus was passing by, they shouted…

Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!

Lord have mercy! These guys knew their scripture. Their scripture, the Hebrew Law, Prophets, and Psalms, were laced with “Lord have mercy” language. Following the traditional understanding of the covenant relationship between the one true God (Yahweh) and His people, they called out to Jesus for mercy.

The Greek word for mercy is eleison. The corresponding Hebrew word for eleison is hesed, which we have discussed a number of times in this blog (see Hesed and Emet, Persistence, Veritas). Hesed is a rich and robust term that surpasses our understanding of mercy. It describes covenant loyalty and relational fidelity. It is freely given, often unexpectedly, without requiring anything in return. (I think of Barrington Bunny.)

When the blind men called out to Jesus, they were making assumptions about his connection to Yahweh (Son of David reference) and the associated covenant loyalty. Based on rumors they probably heard about this Jesus, they called out to him, “Lord have mercy!” They preceived that Jesus might be willing and able to heal them, so they called out for mercy. Moved by compassion, Jesus touched their eyes, giving them sight. And they followed him.

Central to following Jesus is the concept of trust. “Lord have mercy!” It seems the two blind men trusted Jesus before there was any hope of receiving their sight. In fact, the crowd rebuked them but they persisted in their appeal to his eleison. “Lord have mercy!” is a prayer model worthy of our attention.

I discovered eleison in this story by employing a Greek Interlinear New Testament. In the process, I discovered the Greek for “Lord have mercy” to be kyrie eleison. Kyrie eleison may be familiar to you. It certainly is in Eastern Orthodox traditions, embedded in their worship liturgy as Kýrie, eléison; Christé, eléison; Kýrie, eléison (“Lord, have mercy; Christ, have mercy; Lord, have mercy”). It is traditionally known as “The Jesus Prayer.” Not a bad prayer to pray.

Kýrie, eléison; Christé, eléison; Kýrie, eléison.

A side note: If you are of an age that remembers 80s music, you may recall the Mister Mister song, Kyrie Eleison. I always found the beginning of the chorus intriguing: “Kyrie eleison down the road that I must travel…”

ADDENDUM 1/31/2023: Annie F. Downs has created a podcast that will help listeners experience all four Gospels twelve times during the year 2023. It’s called Let’s Read the Gospels. Enjoy!